My war brought me many things; let yours bring you as much. Life is not to be told, call it as loud as you like, it will not tell itself. No one will be much or little except in someone… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
“There goes the dismantled—Love has fallen off her wall. A religious woman,” he thought to himself, “without the joy and safety of the Catholic… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
Of course I think of the past and of Paris, what else is there to remember? — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
A strong sense of identity gives man an idea he can do no wrong; too little accomplishes the same. — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
My war brought me many things; let yours bring you as much. Life is not to be told, call it as loud as you… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
When one wants to become cognizant of the color and the texture of the soil, one does not get a ladder; one gets a… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
“The perfume that her body exhaled was of the quality of that earth-flesh, fungi, which smells of captured dampness and yet is so dry,… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
God,' she cried, 'what is love? Man seeking his own head? The human head, so rented by misery that even the teeth weigh! She… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
Suffering for love is how I have learned practically everything I know, love of grandmother up and on. — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
“No man need curing of his individual sickness; his universal malady is what he should look to.” — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
When autumn shadows throw their patterns across the land, they are not the images of fragile, dying leaves, not the bared arms of lofty… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them. Stretch it as thin as the temple flesh of an ailing woman and still… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
“I tell you, Madame, if one gave birth to a heart on a plate, it would say “Love” and twitch like the lopped leg… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
“Those who turn the day into night, the young, the drug addict, the profligate, the drunken and that most miserable, the lover who watches… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
I couldn't ever boil potatoes over the heat of your affection. Your love would never bridge a gap; it wouldn't even fill up the… — Djuna Barnes Copy Share Image
